


Telomeres

by prismbattery



Series: I only write about my OCs for 10 hours on Loop [1]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Coroika Centric, Eelling, I'll update tags as this goes along, Major Original Character(s), Other, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-31 13:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20115703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prismbattery/pseuds/prismbattery
Summary: Being a hermit and watching the world through a monitor is no way to live, he wants to see what is out and in the world around him. Most importantly, he wants to succeed in it.





	1. Late to a Party that I wasn't Invited to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over preparation can't protect you from the Squidpocalypse.

Rosy pink light pours through the windows along the side of the train facing the slowly rising sun; glare beaming off the metal rims and handles the patrons of the packed cart held onto as they waited for their stops. A shorter Inkling tilts their games screen and shoots the glare of the screen up into Dakro's eyes and he squints, tilting his head to try and avoid the blinding light. Another bumps shoulders moving past him to get closer to the trolleys doors; surely their stop was coming up soon. Tugging the strap of his bag further up on his shoulder he stifled a sigh. He didn't have to check the time to know he'd be waiting some time yet to arrive in Inkopolis.

Cephalopods lucky enough to get seats were dozing off, usually with jellyfish laying their bulbous heads against them or on their laps as the train chugged a long and made their heads jiggle like a bowl of jello. Others wore headphones and browsed their social media with their free hand, the other keeping them from flying across the train over its various stops throughout the city. Seeing everyone quietly digging into their phones and books made him regret leaving his at home; fearing he’d simply glue himself to it anxiously the whole day. Dakro peeks around the car, his thin fins slip over his shoulder.

It seemed the next cart over had quite a bit of overlapping colors between various kids of what he could only assume to be various teams- commonplace from what his roommate told him. Maybe there was some kind of event today? ...His roommate probably forgot to mention it if so. Dakro’s brow furrowed a bit, biting his lip anxiously. Luckily a noise broke through his worries.

With a sudden crackle and delayed feedback from the speaker, the conductor mumbling slightly into the box-

_ 'We will be arriving at Inkopolis station by quarter to nine.' _

_ Well. That’s probably a good thing, _ he hopes to himself silently. Multiple Inklings sat up or stretched and straightened their posture at the announcement. Dakro couldn't help but stare at their bags, surely carrying their weapons for battles and gear inside. The tip of a Charger poked out the zipper of an unfit bag for the job, slightly scuffed. Another was obtusely shaped and others were bagless though sticking close to the bag storage areas. Sliding one of the cabinets open, the Inkling tugged on a massive bag.  _ A Splattling? _ his head tilts to watch and to his surprise, the tiny kid didn't even struggle to hold the bag on his shoulder.  _ Must be getting close _ , he muses to himself and turns back to the doors. Something about the cart slowly churning, decreasing in its speed made his heart race.

The rails whined in anger as the train came to a stop, and nearly made him lose his balance as the doors opened and a short blue Inkling shot past him and out the door. And somehow he managed to choke on his spit, trying hard not to curse out the rambunctious squid. He simply coughed and allowed his fins to relax once again against his neck. That'd be a sour first introduction to Inkopolis. A few more Inklings and Octolings filed through the doors before he finally made his way through and into the sunlight. Though still rising the sun was already making the station look alive and vibrant. Much more lively than his apartment complex as nice as it was.

Initially overwhelming he quickly got used to the consistent and frantic nature of squids and octopi pushing past one another to get where they needed to be, many moving with one another in groups as large as eight. For what felt like an hour he stood vacantly absently trying to mentally catch up to himself. Seemingly stuck he forced himself to pick a direction and get moving.

Where does one begin…? Pushing out of the station he walked past what remained of the old Inkopolis Square. A few meek looking squids and jellyfish hung out by the ramps that he was told previously led to the Squid Sisters broadcasting room. Though with everything powered down the square hardly resembled the photographs he'd stared at countless times. Noticing the Inklings raise their heads and whisper behind their hands made his heart twinge and he knew that he should probably be on his way.

To his surprise the distance was shorter than he expected from looking over maps of the area, and the new Inkopolis Square was lively as anticipated. Unlike new cephalopods Dakro wouldn't have to be worried about people bothering him to help him 'get started' with the new entirely different culture that came with turf and ranked battles- clueless as he was in reality.

Unfortunate that the same rambunctious squid from before would knock directly into him on his rush to his group, a bag larger and fuller than before, boxed miniature cakes and treats poking out the half closed zippers of a duffle bag. Who skids to a halt and turns around to face him, a wide smile still plastered across his face though he did seem to feel a bit guilty.

“Oops!”  _ so maybe he is sorry? _ “My cakes!” he scrambles to pick them off the ground and shoving them back into his bag, crushing them in the process.  ** _Ah._ ** His goggles slid onto his face from his forehead as he rose back to his feet from his knees, he shoves them back up with the palm of his hand before offering one of the non-mushed cakes to Dakro. “Sorry, didn’t seeya there!” he grins toothily, and Dakro isn’t sure if he was capable of looking embarrassed of himself. Unsure of how to respond he took the packaged sweet and stared at it for a moment. The squid didn’t even notice the awkward silence and continued to talk. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, are you new to Inkopolis?” and inadvertently he felt called out, for the one thing he hadn’t wanted to be called out for. “I’m Goggles!” he jabs a thumb back to the other three squids waiting nearby, with varying degrees of impatience on their faces. “We’re the Blue team!”

Still stunned, he avoided having to speak once more as his teammates approached and bonked him lightly on the head. “Don’t be a jellyhead, seriously.” she folds her arms. As though she were stating new news to him, “We’re the Blue team.” she nods. A notable quality of all the members- besides their color- was that they were… all short. Even though Dakro himself was only a bit above the average height he felt as though he were towering over the Inklings.

“Right… um… you can call me Dakro.” he tried to avoid speaking too loud, fearing that if he spoke too openly his teeth would jut out of his face awkwardly. “I’m not really looking for a tutorial or whatever…” Dakro grimanced a little, who the hell said tutorial like it was some kind of video game? “Nice to meet you, I guess. But uh…” and at that moment his brain painfully reminded him he had almost no clue how he’d even get started in picking a weapon. “Uh… Blue team was it…?” he stammered like an idiot. 

“Are you… planning on getting into battles?” the Inkling with the glasses piped up. “It can be tough getting into the swing of things.” he continued by yawning. He apologized and waved his hand in front of his face, humming. “Even if you don’t want us to ‘teach you’,” some passing squids giggled at that notion, and Dakro got the impression that the fellows in front of him had some sort of reputation. “Well. Y’know, we could still help you see what’s out there so you’re not over your head.” he held out his hand. “I’m Specs, this is Headphones and Bobble.” he waved his hand to their general direction as he introduced them.

Bobble perked up finally at this. “We’re looking at weapons?” she asked. “That’d be a good place to start.” they agreed, and Dakro nodded in approval of the idea, the quartet then began to head off. Dakro tried to not make a huge deal of it in his mind and simply silently went along. He’d seen photos of the inside of Sheldon’s shop before, though they were a little outdated he’d admit. There was a part of him that wondered if they still had old weapons on the shelves, main and special.

Bell jingling overhead the squad rolled into the- surprisingly spacious- shop. “Oh, wow.” for a moment he was blinded by the massive array of sparkly, egregious expensive weapons and custom variants, bombs and special kits. Bobble was already poking at the displays with Goggles, while the other two began chatting with Sheldon. There were only a handful of Cephalopods in the store, but many of those that were there were borrowing the displays and heading down a hallway Dakro could not see down. He simply watched and let his mind fill in the possible blanks. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, Specs called to him. Now he really felt that extra few inches of height… Sheldon was even smaller up close.

He could recognize the unexpected spark in his eyes, though he kept his toothy smile. “I’d suggest taking him to the testing range with…” he seemed to blank for a moment, before producing a list. “These basics, just to get an idea of the weapon classes, and from there, I’d be more than happy to indulge in explaining the nuances of the weapons! But for now I think what your friend here needs more than anything is to get a bit of hands on experience and…” he continued to ramble to the two, but Headphones decided to make use of the time by picking up what she could and getting the other two squids to help her with the rest. “Testing rooms are at the end of the corridor. Just remember to bring the key back when you’re done- can’t wait to hear what your friend finds to be his fancy!”

"Let's not keep them waiting then." Specs smiled halfheartedly and lead the way for him, even holding the door open as he headed through the doorway and into the paved testing area, enclosed from others and set up with various dummies shaped like squid in various colors. A few odd strands of grass sat in the cracks of worn out pavement though it was otherwise smooth. "So, Dakro." the door closes. The weapons were each laid out across the floor, though he wasn't sure if there was a reason for the order they were in. "These are considered the 'basics' of each weapon class."

Headphones then took over. "Splattershot Jr, Splattershot and Splattershot pro are all basically the same with varying range and accuracy so I only brought the regular one." she points to the pink gun. "Goggles uses those weapons the most." And then a sweeping motion to the much more hands on weapons. “Bobble uses these ones, Specs uses the brushes.” Specs pushed up his glasses further up the bridge of his nose at the acknowledgement but kept his mouth zipped as Headphones kept going. “Now these,” she motions to some longer and more hefty weapons. “Here’s my personal picks- a Charger. We have friends who use these other weapons though so… feel free to just try out everything, I guess.” she shrugged, picking up the sniper. Seems this is her morning practice as well as she pulls and holds the trigger and lines up her shot, before dipping into the ink below her feet and rolling out with a loud ‘POP’ as the dummy exploded into a ring of ink. Headphones turns to face Dakro and smiles, handing the Splat Charger to him. “If you don’t have a scoped Charger, you can hold it and roll out of the ink below you to surprise enemies.”

Dakro feigned a toothy smile, watching her eyes widen a bit before attempting to cover it up with an even bigger smile. “There’s moving targets over there for after you get used to it.” and with that the blue team moved to a larger section of the testing range to practice, though from what he’d seen they were mostly goofing off. Dakro hadn’t really done much research into weapons as he should have. He’d watched a few tournaments on T.V., but he supposed he would have known the moment he saw the weapon. Quickly he ruled out the short ranged guns, rollers and sloshes- they were simply a bit too… awkward to handle. That was the best way he could put in his mind, though maybe his own excitement was making it hard to get a grip on their style.

He began by replacing the Charger in hand and picking the Blaster from the pile and moving to the moving target section, watching like a Conesnail in waiting for just the right moment- a similar, piercing ‘POP’ to the Charger Headphones had shown him before, though the explosion was much more that, an explosion. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the Blaster’s range tradeoff for how slow it seemed to be. It went in a new pile- the  _ maybe _ pile.

Tentatively he picks up the Charger once more, it was thin and somehow quite dense. If he wanted to, he could compare it a bit to a bottle of sauce; nearly snickering he brings the Charger up and rests the end of it over his shoulder. Her demonstration before had him anxious that he could pull off the same feat as Headphones had, unsure even of what the range even was exactly.. Dipping into the green ink and rolling out, he released his charge… missing, though just barely. Though the position it left him in post firing was hardly balanced, and he promptly buckled face first into the pool of his own ink. It bubbled around him as he groaned. Pervasive to not let the slip get to him he recalled he still one last class to try. He squirmed and slid back in his ink, arching himself as he moved to sit and then stand and shake off the ink, as he usually would. It dripped off and left him clean with relative ease thankfully, and his shirt remained a pristine white- mostly from the protection of his hoodie. “Guh,” he grunted and pursed his lips in discomfort. Being covered in ink- even his own- was a little icky feeling for his taste. As he made his way back to the piles, he gently placed the Charger down beside the Blaster.

One more weapon. Even just it’s appearance was slightly more intimidating to him than the rest; it’s hefty design and multiple barrels. He’d seen this before in old tournament footage, though it hardly even occurred to him that it may be something he’d enjoy. Squatting beside the bulky weapon he curled his fingers around the handle, the other holding around the trigger yet left two fingers hovering just above pressing it. Surprisingly he swung it around with ease, brought back to his feet. Though it was keeping up to its namesake of being a Heavy weapon, it wasn’t unbearable. Clamping his fingers around the trigger and holding tight he looked down at the grumbling, whirring engine loading ink into its chambers. 

Steeling himself, he released the trigger and held his grip firmly, aiming the barrel at each dummy and holding it there until each and every one of them had popped, leaving the testing room covered messy splotches of vibrant green ink. It just sort of clicked to him. Maybe it was just the relaxing feeling of releasing all that pressure- almost at once, and the soothing whirring of the machine. Something it shared, albeit differently, with the Charger. He held the charge, loudly reverberating in his hands and moved to the moving target section, lifting the machine in his arms and firing as he moved along the elevated grates.

Spinning on his heels to the sound of footsteps he was faced with the blue team. “Nice choice!” Bobble had given him a big thumbs up, holding her slosher at her side, ink daring to spill out the side of it and the most he could offer back was an awkward smile and shrug.

“Probably more reliable than the others.”  _ at least to me, _ “It’s got everything, really.”

"Splattlings are similarly intimidating to Chargers and Dynamos." Headphones chirped and moved to inspect his handling. "Try holding it a bit more loosely, like down-" and as she reached to adjust his posture he snorted and retracted to her touch.

"I told you I don't want coaching." Dakro frowns and looks towards the ground once he caught Headphones startled expression. "I know you want to help but…" he straightens his posture and looks away to try and combat his loss for words. Though it was obvious to him he was struggling to apologize it obviously didn't reflect in his face. 

Specs finally interjects the situation the best he can "...Let us know when you're ready to go, then." and Dakro gives a tight lipped nod as he collects himself and moves to collect the weapons near the entrance. "The sooner the better, we want to get practicing a bit of Ranked matches before the stages switch again." though he knew he'd also soured the mood a bit, even Bobble seemed slightly perturbed by his minor outburst.

"Right. Sorry." he mumbled. Specs held the door for his team, which were generous in helping return the test weapons back to the store displays.

Returning the key to Sheldon, the crab smiled and tucked it gently into his pocket. "The next step would be to determine which kit works best for you." He hops off his seat and waddles slightly over to the weapons section. "Which weapon fit your bill?" he asked halfway.

"Catch you later, Dakro!" Goggles chimed on behalf of his team as they made their way out of the shop, bell jingling about three or four times before finally settling back down.

He gave a passive wave behind himself as he followed him. "Right. Uh. Chargers and Splattlings seemed best for myself." he explained, and Sheldon made a pleased 'ah' sound, only further ensuring Dakro that he'd have a fat bill to pay for whatever weapon he ended up choosing. Just seeing the price tags made his palms sweaty. “Those look interesting.” he comments, pointing toward the Kensa and ‘47. “Do you not carry Inkstrike anymore?”

“Inkstrike?” Sheldon quirked to him. “That’s been retired for a few years now. The closest thing we have to it now is our  _ Booyah Bomb _ , which is the special of the Remix, and neither of the weapons you showed interest in.” the crab explains. Hm. He understood about half of those words.

“And these ones have…?”

“Both have the Baller, neither have offensive bombs. The Kensa comes equipped with the Sprinkler which is good for helping build special since you’d be much too busy sniping usually to build it conveniently.” he clasped his hands together. “The other is equipped with the point sensor, which will alert your teammates to where they are. Great if you feel pressured by them or find someone attempting to flank your team.” He didn’t mind the pointers, somehow, as he felt like this was primarily something he told everyone interested in these weapons. “It seems like you’re more informed with older and retired subs and specials, so this would be a fairly safe first weapon I believe.” ... _ Was that part of the analysis or _ …

“Yeah, I suppose.” Dakro shrugged. “Uh… I think I only brought enough with me for one. Will the Nautilus still be here tomorrow?” he picks an unopened Kensa Scope kit, holding it close under his freckled arm. “Should be,” he assured, making his way to the front.

As much as it pained his wallet, he rolled out the entire 20k to Sheldon in one payment. As grateful as he was for a free warranty plan he had to admit the price difference for a scope was a little crazy. Parting ways he nodded his head in thanks and walked blindly out the door. Which was the exact moment the Great Zapfish played his reverse Uno card on Dakro. The poor squid hardly even stood a chance; being as short as he was. Dakro managed to snatch the wrist of his coat before he could tumble too far, nearly swearing. 

“Sorry!”  _ why was he apologizing _ ? He could only mumble in confusion. “It’s alright. Wasn’t watching where I was going, I guess.” Dakro interjected as he watched the Inkling dust himself off.

“Please excuse me,” he added politely, walking past. Dakro stared for a moment at the Inkling. He had a notably odd style to his tentacles and expensive looking clothing. Wanting to escape the awkward situation he simply moved to a shaded, relaxed area in the square to sit himself down and look through his new weapon thoroughly. Though he couldn’t get his mind off the jacket; he’d bought all his clothing online before daring to step foot in Inkopolis to avoid the impression that he’d needed help, yet was recognized as out of place anyways, and that jacket… boggled him, really. Surely he would have come across it.

Even if it were outside his price range. 

Even if it were not his style in the slightest.

Perhaps it was custom? ...Was that allowed? Did people do that?

So many questions to mull over while discarding of a very long rectangular box. It came with a cleaning manuel and care kit, which was nice. He wondered if it at all contributed to the 6k price difference.

…

Maybe he should actually try a few battles. Even if he loses, his wallet will cry a little less than it is right now. He made sure the chair made as little noise as possible and slung his bag now containing his Scoped Kensa inside over his shoulder, making his way to the lobby center.

Many cephalopods were filing through lines and booths to get into lobbies and make their way to their next matches, and none of them were particularly quiet. He craned his neck to get a look at the stages in rotation both now and upcoming, squinting at the screen. It seemed that at the moment the maps where-- _ oh, they just changed. My bad. _ Off The Hook took their moments of spotlight to announce the stages- the only moments where the Lobby room was quiet aside from a few people who were leaving.

Goby Arena and Skipper Pavilion for turf wars. He could only hope they were good for his particular weapon. Without a team he’d just be shuffled into a random handful of squids. Which he’d have to hope have weapons that complimented his own. Not to mention trying to change his own ink color, he’d never even… tried to before today. There was no real way for he himself to tell unless he stared awkwardly at his hands; the fins on his head always remained a dark black no matter what he did. 

The floor seemed to pulse with the somehow loud and quiet music, masked by the scuffling steps of Inklings and Octolings making their way to their respective launchpads. None of which looked or dressed the exact same, and all had different attitudes to the battles the battles they prepared themselves for. Distracted by a crying Inkling who seemed to have just gotten back from a particularly bad match, something else was eager to catch his attention.

“Ey, tall squid!” a bubbly voice from behind he’d initially ignored until the Octoling prodded him with the tip of one of her Dualies. “You lookin’ to team up?” she smiled. Dakro was stunned she hadn’t already had a team assembled, and his half slack jaw must have told her of his confusion. “Wanna play without my usual gang today, y’feel?” she bounces on her heel. 

“Mmh.” he agreed wordlessly. “Alright. I’m new so… sorry if I’m not as good as your usual team or something.”

“It’s no worries, trust me, the people on my usual team are scared to fire sometimes so you’re fiiiine!” she waves a hand, pulling her large blue headphones from her head to rest around her neck, her two puffballs of tentacles bobbling.

“Plus, you’ve got an interesting look about you.” when Dakro nodded partially in confusion, she walked toward one of the Launchpads in the Lobby station and braced herself on one, ready to super jump whenever the lobby was filled. What was with people expecting him to follow blindly today? Is this a rookie thing? “Can I ask somethin’, though?”

“Sure.” Dakro had an odd feeling about the Octoling but couldn’t put his finger on why. The other couple of Inklings already present were cleaning off their gear for the next match, relaxing or chatting amongst themselves.

Her head tilts and she gets a wide ruby eyed innocent look on her face. “Are you an Eelling?”


	2. Wall Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an awkward confrontation, Dakro spends time learning the new meta-game.

_ "Are you an Eelling?" _

Dakro was stunned, wordless. His eyes played Merry-Go-Round with the Inklings and Octolings in the lobby; thankfully all too caught up in their own business to pay any sentiment of obvious care or attention to the stifling exchange though he felt his own awkwardness lingering in the atmosphere.

All he wanted was to blend in; as far fetched and implausible as it seemed he knew from what his roommate told him that generally Inklings aren't that preceptive to this kind of thing: they believe Octolings just have odd hair, and that's usually as far as he said they could tell as far as something being off.

"'Lo?" her head tilts. "Earth to Dakro." she waves a gloved hand in front of his face and he blinks hard. 

"Ah. Well." his eyes flicker around once more, brought back to reality. "I suppose, I guess that might be the right term for it? I don't… know." Dakro shrugs, gently pushing her hand away from his face.

Sheepishly her smile returns, and she sinks back into her seat. "That's super like… cool!" she throws her hands up and waggles her fingers at him. Cupping her mouth with the side of her hand she whispers to him. "Honestly, most Inklings can't tell. I think some 'a these Squids still mistake me for an Inkling sometimes." there was a lightness to her tone - though he doubted she got the full picture.

At last the final Cephalopod enters the lobby, and there's a unanimous moment where the room is quiet. Mere seconds passed before all eight of us were shot into the stage and divided into two teams- Dakro flustered trying to match himself to the orange ink he was paired with while the Lillian spun her Dualies. The projected screen above showed us as the enemy team had spawned in; he hardly recognized some of the weapons he saw and could only make a good guess as to what most of them even were. One detail he was pleased to note however was their lack of a Charger- or any long ranged weapon for that matter. Mentally he took note of the oddly short and chubby looking blaster; something about the way it glittered catching his eye.

"If someone's sneaking up on me just go like,  _ ka-blam _ ! Snipe em for me!"

"...I'll try my best to, for sure." he smirked a bit bemused by how simple she made it sound. All senses should be telling him he's overestimating his own abilities and underestimating the enemy team, but he was too stubborn to admit that to himself. Afterall, most new Squids don't spend hours of their time watching old tournament footage until they pass out. He knew he at least have that kind of edge; though he faltered a bit in worry it may not stack up to the real matches these kids have played in before.

Goby Arena's stadium lights flicked on, buzzing with the newfound energy inside of them. Squinting, Dakro bit his cheek- the stadium was intimidatingly large and he wasn't sure where everything was, he'd never seen someone play on this stage before in any footage he'd drilled his brain with previously.

Placing his Sprinkler at spawn allowed his teammates to go ahead faster than their opponents. That he did know would give them an edge in maintaining control of the stage. Sending a half charged shot ahead of himself he swam forward, his teammates already beginning to paint a pathway up onto the middle platform. Lillian beckoned him with a quick flick of her Dualie before swimming away into the midst of the stage.

Trusting her advice he swam up and past the grate; stopping to take in the scope of his range from the platform. Perhaps he could move to the right hand stand instead if angles became messy or something chaotic like that. The crunch and subsequent splatter of an inkbrush from behind distracted him and brought him back into the match, though he was stuck on his next movement he jumped into the middle of the platform and aimed his scope at the landing above the grate. The moment the Inkling revealed themselves he released the trigger and silently cheered himself for hitting his target. Now he could focus on maintaining control.

A quick tapshot let him onto the middle's platform and though a grate blocked his view it protected him too. 

**Pop!** _Pop pop pop!_

The oddly shaped blaster was dipping himself in and out of the ink as he zipped from place to place, rapidfire shooting tiny explosions. Hard to follow and track he missed several times, missing by just a hair.

Eventually the blaster had gotten rather annoyed of being shot at and rushed to pester Dakro until he inevitably exploded into a puddle of orange ink. Desperately he tried tapping rapidly until his savior rolled from the ink and quickly disposed of the poprocks like shooter and swiftly plopping down a curling bomb and heading off. Though she said nothing he could already hear the silent 'Thank me later!' from her. Turning his attention back to the battlefield he reset his charge a few times in waiting for the perfect opportunity.

An octoling was attempting to ink and scale the side of the basketball stand. holding his scope to the side as to not worry them, as soon as he had gotten the bleep from his gun he snapped his lazer to the octoling and released- his second successful shot. He tossed a sprinkler at the top of the podium to try and negate the Blue team from inking their way up there.

"Heads up!" was a warning from his teammates he'd received too late, the inkbrush having not learnt its' lesson had flanked his team once again and returned to his podium. Swinging wildly, he hardly got a second tapshot from his barrel before he was sent back to spawn. Slightly frazzled he took a moment to look at the map. At that moment he noticed a beacon placed near their sponge block at the side of the platform. His eye twitched in frustration and took the leftmost path to take care of the annoyance, giving it hardly more than a half charged shot before trying to spook the brush out of hiding.

An idea struck him and he quickly threw the sprinkler into the middle of the platform. As soon as the ink splatters had gotten too close for comfort, the brush swam backward a bit too fast and he was able to land the shot, soon jumping over to reclaim the platform for his team. The rest of his team was faring well; the Jet Squelcher making heavy use of their Toxic Mist and pushing them away from popular routes made their movements predictable, letting each of the team get a fair share of splats to their name.

From the corner of his eye he caught the brush lurking as Lillian had been moving to push their alleyway. Knowing an audio cue may not reach her he watches closely to the inkbrush's movement, and as soon as they drop to begin swinging he jumps into the middle to close the range distance and snipes them- soon quickly barraged with the rapidfire popping and splatted. The Jet Squelcher was left to clean up the mess, as he hadn't rushed into the middle of a bad matchup. Like some other idiot had.

Activating an inkrail he dipped inside and popping out the end, soon after firing a few warning shots down their alleyway. He attempted to help keep their middle painted this way in between taking- and missing- shots on his opponents. Taking inventory with quick glances around he peeked towards the timer overhead- they hardly had over a minute remaining. So much had happened so soon. The enemy team was attempting a push, a push which he found difficult to suppress. Finally he’d remembered- his special. Three of the enemy team were pushing against their middle-left, tossing bombs to try and chase him out.

The situation was tight. Dakro quickly pulled away to the side platform and jumped onto the basketball hoop’s podium, popping into the plastic ball and quickly disorienting himself, rolling into the enemies and exploding into a shower of orange ink. The inkbrush had managed to escape, though he managed to half-charge splat them due to the knockback damage they’d already received.

With 3/4th of their team dead the final enemy was forced to pull back to prevent them from wiping completely. Lillian gave a loud ‘Booyah!’ and the team echoed her, furiously painting the area with what little time they had left. Slightly flustered he stumbled, nearly tripping on his own feet and tried painting as best he could with the narrow shot of a Charger.

At last, the whistle blared. 

Everyone froze in place, relaxing their stances. The overhead view of the stage appeared on screen. Both teams held their breath as the score was calculated, and with flashy fanfare, the score was 53-47. 

Dakro fought the urge to grin. He’d only gotten a handful of actual snipes; regardless felt his fins furl out and arms felt light, curling his fingers giddily around his weapon. Rushing up and hardly breaking his excitement Lillian met him with a smile. “You weren’t awful for someone who’s never battled before, y’know? Keep that up n’ maybe we’ll get to fight one day!”

He softened. “...Yeah.” he finally agreed. Just as the air had gotten a bit awkward, Lillian and the remainder of his team were super jumped out of the stage and back into the lobby room.

The air was much more clear than before their match, seemingly things had slowed down inside the lobby.

“See you around sometime, alright?” she waves to him as she leaves, Dakro only having time for a quick ‘mhm’ before she vanished, seemingly already off to her next match. Still exhilarated from his first battle he quickly swapped himself into another lobby to continue.

By the end of the afternoon he had stacked up an even number of victories and defeats and a sizable amount of pocket change. He’d considered purchasing the ‘47 while he had the time, though quickly shut down the thought. Carrying around both weapons at once would be exhausting. One was enough, thanks.

Regardless he was wiped, brain buzzing and mulling over all the dumb mistakes he’d made during the previous matches. And now he was sat slacked back at a table, just barely letting the sun touch him; the rest of him shaded by the towering buildings in the square. A jellyfish rested its head, snoring tiny bubbles. Its sleep- and Dakro’s attention was drawn by a sudden group of chatty Squids and Octolings, all crowding a food truck. His nose twitched at the scent that had flown out of it’s open windows.

The sudden flood of greasy, salty smells made his stomach twinging just to remind him he had hardly eaten even breakfast. He moved to get a better look at the menu- squinting to see the prices were almost completely unlisted, instead picturing tickets. The concern was buried by his hunger, and he quickly joined the ‘line’, and watched as the Cephalopods grabbed their food and turned on heel to leave with their friends. A short Octoling pushed past him in line and Dakro struggled to do anything more than make a nasty face behind her back. Ah well.

Slowly the line had crumpled and he was face to face with the Shrimp. “Um…” he struggled, pointing at the ticket sign, swirling his hand around and pointing at his wallet, which only contained G. “You don’t accept this do you…?” he smiles sheepishly at the Shrimp. Sean laughs. 

“Unfortunately not Squiddo.” he grooms a whisker with his claw. “Here- how about this,” he corrected, “I’ll give you something on me, how’s that sound? You can give me a ticket later.” giving a content face to Dakro, he turned to fix something up for him. Dakro glanced into the truck- at least what he could see. “Anything in particular you’d want on it, Squiddo?” his head tilted back and he had to adjust his cap.

“Thank you um…” he scratches the base of his fin and mumbles to himself. “You got like… pickles or uh… barbecue…? Somethin’ like that, maybe?”  _ or both, _ he thinks. Crusty Sean turns back to his work and within the minute is packaging the Seanwich into a red-checkered cardboard container. He hands it down to Dakro and pats the top. 

“T’a make it simple for you,” he points to the top left section of the Square. “Squiddos usually get their tickets from that’a way, others trade them. Whichever you find works best, as long as you get me a ticket. Sooner rather than later!” he muses, patting the top of Dakro’s head with a claw before sending him off to tend to the next Squid in line. Returning to his previous table, it was now occupied by two Squids on their phones. They shared each other's screens with one another multiple times, giggling and what he could best describe as ‘inside voice screaming’.

His heart told him it wasn’t worth asking them to move so he just sat at a nearby unoccupied table. Cracking open his Seanwich he had to remind himself every time he took a bite to take his time or else he’d explode, or something along those lines.

“Look look!” they tried to keep their voices down and failed, it was nearly a stage whisper. “Is that from today!!” they grasp the phone from their friend and scroll to the post date. “It looks so dark, though!” they theorized the post excitedly. A friend of theirs makes their way to their table and drops in. Dakro tries to keep his ears to himself but it more or less felt like he had no choice but to eavesdrop. Ignoring them would probably take  _ more _ effort.

“When’s the next bracket going to start?”

“Probably soon, what time’s it now?”

“Almost half past five.”

“We’ve got time, then.” the squid pushed up his glasses. They sighed. 

They bickered for a moment before getting up to leave.

He watched with a curious glance as the group of three move to the lobby. Were they planning on spectating a match? He contemplated. Too tired and still too hungry to continue battles, and while he wasn’t really deep into whatever celebrity culture the group was squealing over he at least wanted to know what exactly had caught their attention so much that they left early just to attend. Wrapping the paper haphazardly over the top of his Seanwich he hoisted his bag over his shoulder to follow the herd.

Maybe it’d be just like the footage he’d spent all this time watching... just more exciting. And much more up to date with how much has changed in recent years. 

It could really only benefit him. Dakro accepted that he could learn from his mistakes like this- plus if he caught up with the people he’d seen before, maybe he could even talk to them?  **Hah!** ...He’s still a bit of a wallflower for that.

Realizing he was losing site of the group that would guide him where he wanted to go, he picked up the pace with a bit of a hop in his step, maneuvering around Cephalopods standing idly. He watched the group of Seafoam Cephalopods push open one half of a double door and allow the other two to walk past him before following behind, light slowly fading as the door closed itself behind them, metal push bar pulling itself back into place only for Dakro to push it back open with his forearm, hands occupied by his Seanwich and duffel bag.

The sky was just beginning to take on a milky pink tone to it, scattered purple clouds filtering the sun’s light as it cast onto the stadium. The stage sat in the center was a glorified version of what he recognized to be Arowanna Mall, though the new Sponges and overall redesign of the stage threw him for a loop. He looked around frantically for the Seafoam Cephalopods to question them.

Luckily the rafters weren’t very crowded, much too early for people to swarm the area in rush of a good seat. Making accidental, much too long eye contact with one of the Inklings he made a wide eyed, false surprised look and turned to sit in one of the seats and sitting himself in it. If he were lucky they wouldn’t…

“Oh hey it’s that guy!” the girl with a ponytail pointed, jabbing a finger in Dakro’s direction. God please no. Just let him eat his way-too-salty-Seanwich in peace. “Who are you?!” her tone was accusatory.

He turned back to them, face half full of sandwich. He swallowed hard. “Uhh… D…. uhm… Dakro.” he winced as he accidentally bit his tongue mid sentence. “Who are  _ you _ ?” he flips the question back to the shooter.

“”We’re the Seafoam trio!” she smiled. “Sofi, Hida, Elli.” she pointed to each of her friends to introduce them. He didn’t particularly care why they were only three though he supposes it was the only thing he got of note about them. 

“We don’t talk about Peli anymore.” Hida added, the girls nodding and mumbling something to one another. Dakro resisted rolling his eyes and bit into his sandwich again. “Anyway, uh are you here to see New-Per?”

“They’re going against X-Blood, I’m surprised the stadium isn’t filled to the brim already!” as they continued to chat, Dakro moved up a few rows to sit next to the group. At least he wouldn’t seem lonely if anyone else came in soon. Aside from the few other Cephalopods scattered around some choice seats. He’d soon finish his Seanwich and crumple the wrapper, tucking it into one of the pockets of his bag. The last thing he wanted to do was litter day one- he knew how stadiums got at peak tournament times.

While promptly ignoring them, he noticed odd baskets to either side of the stage. “What gamemode is this?” he asks, pointing with an open hand.

The group blinked in confusion. “You don’t know about Clam Blitz?”

“It’s Blitz on Arowana Mall…”

“I don’t, no.” Dako shook his head, resting his arm across his chest and sliding his bag between his feet.

Seafoam had looked between each other and laughed curiously, Sofi pulling her phone back out and returning to scrolling absently on Inkstagram most likely. “You’ll get the idea when you see it. It’s easier to grasp if you just watch.” Hida finally stated, peeking over Sofi’s shoulder to her screen. “Here, show-” he taps her screen and scrolls up. “Show him this.”

Her phones screen was turned to him and he peeked at it. Sofi tapped the center of the screen and turned her phone on its side with a gentle shake and tap to get the gyroscope to work properly. The video was taken by a hand cam, with the person obviously right up to the railings to get the best shots they could. The match was on another stage he recognized- Piranha pit, though it had gotten a bit wider than he recalled. The teams were an Indigo Blue and a Lime Green.

...Both teams kind of looked like idiots. Upon closer inspection he could see Goggles, Bobble and Headphones- though Specs was nowhere to be seen. Someone else stood in his place, someone he didn't recognize. The cameraman seemed to fancy the Inkling as it focused the video heavily on him. Both teams seemed to scatter around, though part of how the Blue team was organized made it offensively obvious that the rando was out of place. Not in a bad way; quite the opposite, it was clear to Dakro that the Inkling was actually quite skilled and he even recognized a few techniques he was putting into place just within the first minute or so of the match.

"Oh so it's like that game I played as a kid, okay." he nodded and leaned a bit and squinted. Phone screens were a bit too small for his liking. As a haphazard toss became a successful score he felt himself get riled up, curling his hands into fists. The score was quickly stacking itself against the Lime team- yet was quickly thwarted as soon as the Blue team let their guard down. Trying not to make a noise of disappointment he sharply sucked air through his teeth.

The game went back and forth a few times, commentary and cheering occasionally overpowering the sounds of the actual battle. As the clock went into overtime, the Blue team quickly ended it with a Powerclam and he cheered, his brain sending fireworks through his veins.

"Clam Blitz is such a weird mode." Elli sighed. "I'm glad we're gonna see N-Pacer though."

"Red-Sole is better!" Sofi pulled her phone away and began rapidly scrolling. Dakro pulled back and relaxed himself, knowing what would happen if he let himself get too riled up. "What do you think?" she smiled.

"I don't really know these like… celebrities or whatever. That battle was pretty good though." it was a subtle way to thank them for showing him it.

"Right? Emperor is the cutest."

"...Who?"

Sofi rapidly scrolls again. "You  _ just _ saw this guy! C'mon!"

"I wasn't listening to the crowd!" he holds his hands in front of himself defensively. 'Or the announcers,' Hida had mumbled.

"Whatever." she taps a few times and scrolls through a library of photographs, eventually pulling up a posed photograph of the Blu-per team, pointing to the taller Inkling. "See? This dude."

"Oh." he blinks. "Okay." the group seemed mildly annoyed with his apathy towards the apparent celebrity, Sofi tearing her phone away and keeping tight lipped.

"She just wants your opinion on him." Elli's eyes pleaded to just validate the Inklings opinion and he tried to not look uncomfortable as he sighed.

"Yeah. He seemed pretty skilled and stuff." he didn't exactly feel like calling someone he's never met 'cute', especially not since he got the itching sensation that he wanted to face the King in a battle someday. Elli was visibly disappointed in him but her expression gave him the impression of 'good enough'.

"Oh yeah, that's why he's the leader of team Monarch." she blubbers for a moment. "All the S-Above teams are scary!"

As soon as he was about to comment, the doors opened on each side of the stadium entrance and groups of inklings moved to find seats with their friends and he promptly kept quiet. Peaking onto Sofi's screen he could see it was nearly six- which must have been when the match was starting. He turned his attention and looked to see if maybe Lillian would show up again, or even any of his many teammates he had battled with the past few hours. Only a handful he could vaguely recognize, though he couldn't recall what weapons they'd been using nor their names.

The stadium lights dimmed a bit, only letting the light of the just setting sun to illuminate the area. Seats were quickly packed by fans, many with glow sticks and banners they planned to raise during the matches in support of either team. Finally, even Sofi put away her phone momentarially. The seats filled with as many Inklings and Octolings as they could host- Dakro began feeling as though he were stuck in an oven and slipped from his seat to stand by the railings overlooking. Curiously enough it actually didn't appear that popular to stand throughout the matches while watching; perhaps they'd been worried of their legs getting tired? His bag sat at his feet, strap hooked around his leg as an anxious anchor to his person.

The monitor screen overhead displayed the time. 5:55pm. The air was only beginning to chill, and the sky was slowly turning its milky pinks and dusty purples to a rosy red and striking violet. Peering down over the long stage he followed the railing until he was at the middle, wriggling his fingers anxiously in anticipation. He keeps flicking his eyes upward every time he sees someone move on the other side of the stadium.

**5:58 PM.**

A figure moves and finds its place standing on the opposite side of the stadium railing, arms crossed and resting to balance themselves. When he finally raises his head to see who it was he froze. Dakro freezes entirely, akin to the way young squids do with the mentality of a frightened fish-  _ don't move and they can't see you- _ his fins felt like they were beginning to spark like a tin can in a microwave on high.

Even from this far away, he finally understood the imposing aura of Emperor; and he could do little more than stare with the surge of urgency in  _ challenging _ him as soon as possible. Scratching the metal bar he finally broke his train of thought to the opening tune of an official tournament battle. 

A Yellow team emerges to his right, a Cyan team to his left. Two baskets, on opposing rafters and just within range of one anothers alleys.

The atmosphere of both teams was intense, he could tell from the way they held themselves as well as their weapons with confidence- Yellow was only slightly less so; something had felt uncanny about the composition, mostly featuring short-range weapons. Both teams were fairly even in terms of weapons, the bowl-cut inklings choice in weapon piqued his interest closely. He recalled the odd Splatling from earlier this morning.

The screen, previously displaying the time had switched over to display the hosts; Off The Hook. The two girls briefly explained how the stage and mode were like before going on:

_ "This is the second bracket, so it'll be a best of five!"  _ Pearl reminds the audience.

_ "The final bracket will conclude tomorrow! We can't wait to see you all there!"  _ Marina adds.

The leaders of each team respectively took a few moments to deliberate amongst their team before the match begins.

* * *

And by the end of everything, Dakro is mentally exhausted. Taking notes and self consciously trying to keep himself visibly- though not physically calm- was tiring. Cephalopods and even some Jellyfish slowly filtered out the double doors by the end of the match, with New-per having lost the bracket. As the stadium emptied he continued to stare down at the ink-covered streets of Arowana Mall and recalling the past five matches; complete different metagame than what it had been years prior.

The imposing presence lingered; not unnoticed by him.

Above, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. Sky still amber with the remaining blazes of the sun. The mild air of intimidation hit him when he'd brought himself to look back up only to notice he'd been staring him down.

Despite the distance he still heard Emperor.

"Hmph."

The otherwise silent room was then filled with the slight echo of his shoes as he walked from the stadium balcony.

Not wanting to give a wrong impression he held himself still for a few long minutes before deeming it okay to leave, the double doors clicking behind him.

By the time he had paid for his train ticket the sky was beginning to darken. Half empty, he got the luxury of sitting down and rest his head against the back of the seat as he watched the sky slowly fade into a lovely purple, stars already beginning to greet themselves. 

As he was dozing off he'd felt it ringing in his ears that he didn't challenge the Monarchs as he had intended. 

He wasn't sure how he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up, it's been like a week oops. Hope this flows better than the first chapter does! :)


	3. Dusty Ceiling Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dakro returns home for the night.

By the time Dakro arrived at his stop, the moon was the sole illumination he had to follow on his path home, any traces of the previously scarlet sky already faded into a navy abyss full of glitter.

His shoulders ached and his legs were sore; something he knew he'd sooner or later get used to. After a few blocks he pulled his wallet from his pocket and slotted his card at the glass door, the lock buzzing quietly before clicking open. Quickly checking his P.O. box he pawed at the few letters stashed inside and pulled them out, locking the emptied box soon thereafter. 

Too mindless to take the stairs, Dakro slid himself into the empty elevator. It's humming lights were the only noise beside the moth flapping its wings against the bulb.

It dinged as he finally reached the fourth floor, stepping into the empty hallway and making his way down a series of doors until he finally reached D16 and tucked his key into the front knob, pulling the handle a bit as he turned and eventually pushed open silently. After having been away from his home for so long he felt relief enter his body at the familiar sight and slightly dusty smell of his apartment. The T.V. buzzed with what he assumed was his roommates white noise for the night.

Their head turned to him as he hung up his sweater on the coat rack closeby. "Heyy you're back, how was it?" Morrison asked in his typical casual tone. "I ordered food in. It's in the fridge if you're hungry. Come talk to me once you're all good." the tentacles above his lip raised as he spoke and finally turned back away from him, tuning himself back into his midnight show- most likely pre-recorded with their DVR.

"Alright." Dakro answers before heading to his room to drop off his bag. The shelf he'd set up months prior, previously barren now held his Kensa Splatterscope. His room was completely dark besides the glowing lights of the power buttons on his electronics. Dakro's phone which sat flat on his bed stand, still charging. With a quick tap to his home button he saw the slew of messages and notifications, personal and impersonal. He tells himself he'll deal with it later and decides eating might be a good idea. Who knows.

Inside the fridge were various containers. Picking at the flap of one he peeks inside and decides to just go with it- straight up cold leftovers. Just under seasoned noodles and vegetables he was too lazy to reheat before crabbing a fork and sitting beside Morrison on the couch, cross legged and readjusting the pillow behind him about thirty times before settling down.

Still mulling over the tournament and subsequent events he hadn't even heard Morrison's question until he'd repeated himself. "Dakro?" Dakro mumbled, noodles halfway into his mouth. "What was it like out there kid? What'd you get?"

"Mmh," he held up a hand as he finished chewing through his noodles. "It was all really different and stuff. I got a Charger with a scope n' I looked at a weird Splattling… saw a bunch of weird new weapons too." he paused to continue eating, shaking his head and pushing his fin back a bit. "Most of the stuff isn't like how it was in the old tournament footage."

"Wanna show me it?" he asks as he kicks his feet up on the corner of the coffee table, and Dakro nods. "Sure." he pushes a few loose papers aside to set his container on the table and fetched the weapon from his room, soon returning and standing beside the couch.

"It's a Kensa… or whatever. It's special and sub-weapon were familiar-ish so I just kinda went with it." he shrugs and hands it to Morrison, who takes a good look at it before giving a hearty chuckle.

"They sure make those things quite a bit sturdier than before, that's for damn sure." he smooths over the weapon before giving it a slight shake and tapping the end of it. "Mm-hm. Yee-ap." he hands it back to Dakro. "Chargers always put in a lot of work for their team. I'm sure with practice you could easily become a pretty talented player." he pats the top of the weapon in his hands.

"Oh, yeah, I hope so. I saw this dude who I wanted to fight and apparently there's a lot of high ranked people in the square n' stuff…" he trailed off awkwardly. "I'll probably try and sleep early though… even though I wanna watch some new tournament stuff… yeah." he heads to return the weapon to his room and sits back down to continue eating when he returned.

Morrison's show was soon ending, he guessed, as Morrison got up to go clean the kitchen before shutting off the light of both there and the living room and yawning. "I don't care when you sleep, just make sure the T.V.'s off when you do. Don't leave that out." he mentions, heading off as he removed his thin headband from his tentacles and closed the door of his room behind him. Dakro grabbed the remote and opened the channels menu, scrolling until he found anything interesting. His eyes glossed over the time, more or less looking like a blur of numbers his brain refused to process. Soon he found a late-night rerun of a talk show centered around long range weapons and more or less tuned it out as he finished his meal.

A quick trip to the kitchen to throw out the container and stuff the fork in the sink, not bothering to turn on the light. A clunk noise making him freeze, tightening his grip on the cabinet door his trash can was inside. Moments pass and he assures himself that it was likely just one of their neighbors fooling around again and returns to the living room. A quick double-tap to the remote switched the T.V. off and the room went pitch black, all that was left was the small red dot of the T.V.. Not entirely impactful to an eel, however. Dakro makes his way back to his room without incident thanks to the mild illumination created by the lemon-lime frills of his neck.

He sniffs, entering his room once again and shutting the door behind him, locking it out of sheer force of habit. He flicks on the light to his washroom to clean himself off and brush his sharp teeth, the cause of death for a number of toothbrushes over the years. Once finished, he rinses the sink out and flicks off the lights, door shut tight behind him. The thought of leaving it open disturbed him for some reason.

Finally flopping onto his bed he slipped under the covers, finally pulling his phone to his bedside to check his notifications.

A few DMs and group messages, mostly cheering him on, though he didn’t check his phone when he had woken up. He sends a quick reply before closing his messages, opening _Notilus_ and scrolling through his various playlists. Eventually he settles on the same old playlist of tournaments from over five years prior. He knew the matches by heart, setting his phone back down in sleep mode as he laid back to relax. Staring up at the ceiling fan which spun slow enough that, with enough time, you could track a singular blade as it went around.

Eventually, he managed to find sleep in the sounds of Inklings battling.

His dreams were no different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morrison is here! I hope I can include a lot more of him in the future, since he's a really important figure in Dakro's life. He's just old:~)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I had no idea how long to make this first bit like... at all! I am aiming to make this fairly long just... not unbearably so. Any kinds of advice in that territory would be great help for me!  
Also if you're curious I have Dakro's TH page here: https://toyhou.se/4643424.dakro ! Feel free to take a peek.


End file.
